Chang WuFei's Diary
by Dragon of Dispair
Summary: After the war, WuFei has a very strange weekend. Slash.


Chang WuFei's Diary

You know those dreams that frighten the Hell out of you and terrorize you with faint premonitions of the future while asleep and leave you with nothing but a creepy-crawly feeling once awake. One of those was what tormented my sleep the night this entire mess began. And as I sit here writing this I can't help but feel that if only I had been able to remember the demons that haunted me that night, I could have avoided much of the entire mess.

Perhaps that's why the demons wouldn't let me remember.

I do remember waking violently with that bugs-on-skin feeling knowing, just knowing, that whatever had awoken me hadn't come from the dream demons and that whatever it was, it was Not Good.

Rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggg!

Never before in my life has that simple sound sounded more like a banesidhe.

Or like a death wail.

"Someone had better be dead or you will be." Nightmare or no, I do not like being woken up in the middle of the night.

"Chang? I need you to come down here."

Shit. Yuy. Someone was dead. "Who died?"

"No one."

Grrrrrr! "So why are you calling in the middle of the night?"

"Sorry." Even over the phone he sounded insincere. You would think that he could at least make the effort to sound sincere over the phone. But nooooo Heero Yuy won't even pretend to be sorry for waking me up a two in the fucking morning.

"What do you want, Yuy?"

"I don't want anything." Shit. That meant he was calling on Duo's behalf. "Duo wanted me to call you and tell you to show up in Redwood City in two days or, and I am quoting him, he'd 'hunt you down, drug you with something that will give you the worst hangover of you're life, and drag you there by your cute little ponytail and make you live though the entire thing with you hands chained behind your back.'"

Deep shit.

Sometimes I really hate being right. And I had no doubt that Duo would do exactly what he was threatening. Fine, showing up semi-voluntarily sounded better than the pure Hell I had been promised if I didn't. Except I wasn't as sure whatever drug Duo had cooked up could give me the worst hangover of my life.

"Three questions Yuy."

"Shoot."

I swear Duo's been a bad influence on Yuy.

"Why am I coming to Redwood City? How am I going to get there? And…has Maxwell really found a drug that could give me a hangover."

"He hasn't told me why. He made arrangements; I e-mailed you with them just before I called. And yes; I don't know where he found out about it or what excuse he found to use it on me, but it really works."

Hip deep shit.

Quatre met me at the San Francisco Airport. Which, as far as I was concerned, was a Good Thing. After spending several hours on a plane sitting next some stupid woman and a baby who, quite simply, would not shut up, I was defiantly not in the mood fight for either a taxi who would take me to Redwood City or a rental car. I could have just stolen one, but at the moment the idea of a wild, high speed car chase though the city that would end up with cop cars blowing up, narrow escapes, and hundreds of dollars in property damage sounded far too appealing to be a particularly good idea. Luckily, for everyone involved, Quatre was waiting for me and I did not get the opportunity to consider working out my slightly homicidal feelings on the innocent cop cars of this fair city.

Lucky for every one but me. I still had slightly homicidal feelings chewing on my insides. Although Quatre himself seemed to be enjoying playing target.

"I don't suppose you have any baggage." glare "I didn't think so."

"Why am I here?"

"Duo invited you." Threatened me was more like it.

"I have made it clear that I don't wish to be bothered unless there is an emergency, so why have I been coerced into coming here."

Now I was the one being glared at. Everyone thinks that Yuy and I have the most potent glares. Yuy and my glares are potent because we're both bad tempered and you can see in our eyes that we can kill you without a second thought. Everyone is wrong, but that doesn't stop them from thinking it. In truth, Duo and Quatre have the most potent glares. Duo because he conveys the fact that not only will he not feel guilt over your death but by the time he gets around to killing you you're begging to die. Quatre, because he's as lethal as the rest of us and his glare hasn't been cheapened with overuse.

"You act like a bastard so much, I don't know why in Hell Duo even bothers anymore." glare "Are you listening to me? You never listen to anyone"

"I do when you're not putting me to sleep."

Quatre ran his car off the road so fast the tires smoked. If he hadn't been mad before, he definably was now. Well, too bad for him—I think we've already covered the pissy mood I was in. "Damnit, WuFei! Duo loves you, God only knows why; everyone else thinks you're an asshole."

That knocked me out of my pissy mood with less subtly than a two-by-four across the back of my skull.

"Duo…loves me?"

"You mean you actually haven't noticed?"

Mutely I shook my head.

"I thought I supposed to be the dumb blond."

Was he implying I was stupid? Yes I think he was.

Wait a minute. Back up. There are more important things to think about right now. Like the reality-altering, unthinkable concept that Duo, of all people, loves me. Duo loves me. Duo loves me. But if Duo loves me, why is Duo with Yuy. Damnit, this is getting complicated. I swear some Evil Demon Goddess is writing this and laughing her ass off.

Meanwhile Quatre was busy hitting his head against the steering wheel. Don't ask me why—as far as I know the coveted ability to drive with a concussion is in the sole ownership of Yuy. But I could be wrong.

"Just because I'm short does not mean I'm stupid."

Quatre stopped banging his head against the nearest solid object and stared at me with impossible wide eyes. "WuFei, did you just make a joke?"

"I hadn't noticed."

Blink. Blink.

Finally he seemed to pull himself out of his astonishment and with a muttered "Keep that up and Duo might get the idea that you don't hate him" he started the car and took off down the highway.

Did Duo really think I hated him? Have I really been giving him that impression? Yes. Yes I have.

Time to change that.

We did not go all the way to Redwood City. We stopped just outside it and I saw why Duo had chosen this place as the rendezvous. The circus was in town. And not just any circus—this was that lovely place that had hidden my dear comrade throughout the war, the place that had nursed Yuy back to health. We owed the war effort to the circus.

Scary thought.

I watched the performers and workers walking around doing their chores and chatting. About half the people were female and most were dressed in skimpy shorts and tank tops—it was a rather hot day. I was going to make one of my usual snide comments about "weak women" but the conversation with Quatre in the car made me reconsider. Instead I made a joke.

"Many hottie squaws here."

"I ain't no squaw," Trowa announced calmly from where he was cuddling with my chauffer, who was busy choking on…something.

"WuuuuuuFeeeeiiii!"

I'll give you three guesses on who was now hiding from his boyfriend by ducking behind me. And the first two don't count. "WuFei," Duo whined braid tailing its owner as excitedly as he was bouncing; "Heero's threatening to beat me with a bagette! And it wasn't even low-fat!"

"I'm not threatening. I'm persuading."

It would have been beneath my dignity to participate in this in any way.

"It sounded like a threat to me." Screw dignity.

There was thirty seconds of slightly astonished silence. Yuy recovered first, "It was not a threat. It was a tactical argument."

"If your enemy's reaction is any indicator, it was an effective tactical argument. I'd remember it if I were you." And with that I side-stepped, sending a totally stupefied, Duo, still in his "cowering" position sprawling across the ground.

Trowa and Quatre had disappeared.

Duo didn't stay sprawled on the ground for very long. "C'mon Fei! Let's go! I'm hungry. I'm sure you're hungry too, so I'm not going to tell you why I used a 'tactical argument' to drag you out here until you eat some thing. And don't give me that line about not being hungry enough to eat circus food, because I won't hear it!"

I swallowed what I had been about to say because…that had been what I had been about to say. Meanwhile Duo continued his rant on the joys of Chili Cheese Nachos. At one point I couldn't contain my gag.

"How in Hell can you eat that stuff?"

"HA! Duo can eat anything," Heero spoke over the continuing rant, "'If it doesn't move, pick it up and spread it on a cracker' is Duo's philosophy."

"Nachos, Heero. 'Pick it up and pour it on nachos,'" he considered for maybe two seconds then added, "unless you're talking about green Jell-O. But green Jell-O is just plain weird anyway."

I actually ate the God-awful nachos, though, despite Duo's best efforts, I left off the chili beans, the jalapeno peppers, the sauerkraut, and the salsa.

"So why are we having a Gundum Pilots' reunion at Trowa's circus?"

"Well I kinda talked to the ringmaster, and he said we could."

"Said we could…what, Duo?"

Absently Duo picked up one of performer's pet rabbit and began petting it and cooing at it. Basically he was using it as an excuse to ignore me. Well I knew a way to stop that. "Oh, it's a rabbit. Dinner! Where's my shot gun?" Dignity be-damned.

And I'd managed to shock Duo again. But Duo recovers from shock fast. "Awwww! But Fei, it's so cute and fuzzy and……IT BIT ME!" Now that was just too funny because the rabbit really had bit him.

"Fei, you're laughing."

"Don't call me 'Fei', and I thought that was the normal response when one thinks something is humorous."

Blink. Blink.

"Well, yeah."

"So what did the ringmaster 'say we could' do?"

"It's soooo cool, Fei! He's going to let us be circus performers!"

So began the both the best and the worst weekend of my young life.

"My pantaloons don't fit!"

"Duo you're a clown, the 'pantaloons' aren't supposed to fit."

"Why do I have to be a clown. I'm the God of Death. Shinigami should not have to wear stupid shoes that don't fit!"

I rolled my eyes. "Duo we're all clowns. And if the shoe fits, throw it out the window." My jokes, pitiful as they were, no longer incapacitated Duo with surprise, but his eyes continued to widen as though the thought he was having an auditory hallucination.

"Heero's not a clown." He whined.

Said not-clown chose that moment to walk into our portion of the changing tent in sparkling spandex that must have been tighter than the outfit he wore during the war. And I had no doubt he had managed to hid his gun in that outfit (and I use that term loosely) somewhere. That gun was like Duo's knives—no matter how skimpy, tight and revealing the out fit or how many times you peel any outfit off either of them, you can neither find nor remove that weapon.

Ahem. Train of thought comes to a screeching halt and slowly chugs back to the point.

"Miss Heero's not a clown because he's performing in the second ring thirty seconds after the main parade."

Yuy growled, "Call me a 'woman' one more time and you'll be singing an octave higher," he paused and tugged on the sleeve of his glittery tank top, then added, "This bra is wireless. Does that make it cellular?" Completely deadpan.

"And we're using Yuy's cross dressing act to change into the really cool outfits we get to wear when we're not clowns." The mention of the 'really cool' outfits we'd be wearing later seemed to pacify Duo for the moment. Of course, who knew how long that would last.

"At least you're not in the same ring as the radioactive horse-whisperer." And apparently it was Yuy's turn to gripe. A half-hearted gripe, at best, but he may be forgiven because of his inexperience with the art-form of griping. He never griped before.

"Don't worry," Trowa-clown chose that moment to but into our group gripe session, "She's only radioactive on Thursday s and Mondays." Behind him Quatre-clown giggled. It was Saturday. "Get going Heero. You need to be up top when the show starts."

Yuy stalked out, followed by the two happy-to-be clowns, leaving the two reluctant-to-be clowns alone. Namely Duo and I.

"Fei?"

I turned back around to face him, only to fall directly into endless pools of violet. I was so absorbed with looking into his eyes that I barely heard his whispered "please don't hate me" before his lips met mine.

The 'cool outfits' Duo and I wore out in the ring after Yuy's performance were glittery Americanized black and gold karate outfits. This was the only performance any of the Gundum pilots were going to do without any of the real circus performers' assistance. Duo had boasted that this was because the ringmaster trusted us enough to let us on stage without a babysitter. Personally, I thought it was because our form of martial arts weren't compatible with the usual performers' choreographed dance. (I was right. Our performance was a true demonstration of fighting abilities, even if Duo left out his endlessly creative supply of street and gutter moves.)

Next was Trowa the target, then Yuy joined one of the trapeze families, then there was another parade which required all our participation—this time Duo and I stayed in our "Martial Arts Masters" outfits. Then intermission.

I spent intermission carefully avoiding Duo. After our kiss earlier, I had stammered that I didn't want to do anything until I had talked to Yuy, and I couldn't do that until I had figured out how I felt about it. In truth I had already sorted out how I felt. I wanted it. Duo wanted it. Duo loved me. I loved Duo. There was no problem there.

Except Yuy. I would not dishonor Duo, Yuy or myself like that.

Voices, Quatre's, Trowa's and Yuy's, lured me toward the animal cages. Then I stopped. The conversation was about me. And Duo.

"What do you mean, Trowa, 'there's no problem.' Duo is with WuFei. And what does Heero think about that?"

"I'm fine with it as long as I get to join in later. Duo promised I could."

I thought I had heard enough and decided to get going before I was discovered and something violent happened.

The second half of the circus was lions and tigers, two more parades, Heero the Human Cannonball ("Bonzai!" slap "OOWW! Duo, what was that for?" "For being a crazy, suicidal maniac" "If you started hitting him every time he acted like himself, he'd be black and blue." "Feeeiii, your sup-posed to be on my side." ) and two more clown acts.

Duo caught me immediately after the show ended. "So have you thought about…you and me?"

"Yes."

"Talked to Heero?"

"No."

"So what do you suggest we do?

I made a suggestion.

"I'll do that and I'll be singing zippity-do-dah the entire way."

Heero did join us, eventually.

Of course, the weekend wasn't quite over.

We all stared at IT. IT was being cuddled by Heero, of all people. IT was one of the most frightening things I had seen in a long time. And only part of that was because IT was being cuddled by Heero Yuy.

Trowa regained his wits first. "Hey it's a puppy! And it looks…dead?"

"It's NOT dead."

"Then what is it?"

"It looks a little like a furry Robo-Pet." Which was exactly what it was. Once that little fact became apparent, our happy group of lunatics began shooting questions like Zero-System maniacs.

"Is it supposed to be that small?"

"Can I hold it? Heero, pleeease."

"Here."

"It's warm and shiny and it squishes between my fingers."

"Is it supposed to be that color?" The poor Robo-pet was turning blue.

"Oops, I broke it!"

"DUO! You broke it, how did you break it?"

"Sorry Heero, it just sorta snapped off…"

beep! beep! beep! beep!

Now at this point I just had to join the conversation. "Does Heero know his thing is beeping?"

Heero looked about ready to explode.

"Jesus save us, but that was a bad investment."

Trowa nodded solemnly at his blond boyfriend and asked in his blandest voice "Jesus saves but does he invest wisely?" That led to a round of giggles.

And that round of giggles led to a round of "tactical arguments" between us and Heero's semi-automatic.

And I swear on the graves of my ancestors, that is how I ended up in the mess I am in now. The mess called Duo Maxwell's Room.


End file.
